Colombia. A coffee plantation. It has been hot from the early morning. We are surrounded by hills and green bushes. Some of them hide in the shade of banana trees. Purposefully. This allows the fruit to ripen slower and makes coffee more balanced in taste.

In very old hacienda we wait for the owner. We wait and eat. We wait and rock in hammocks. We wait and swim in the pool. Eventually, after a long hour we start to collect grains. A professional coffee collector is able to collect several dozen kilos during the day. After thirty minutes our ‘harvest’ barely covers the bottom. This, however, is enough to see how coffee soaks, squeezes through the press and roasts. It is enough for a small cup of black liquor. Without milk. Without sugar. With taste.